


Ablutions

by Sarcasticmissy



Category: Whitechapel (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-17
Updated: 2014-04-17
Packaged: 2018-01-19 19:02:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1480618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarcasticmissy/pseuds/Sarcasticmissy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joe has his rituals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ablutions

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a comment from one of my bosses, though I'm not sure the 50ish Scottish male boss was thinking slash when he began talking about ablutions.

He has his rituals, his need to cleanse for the beginning of the day.

He showers every morning, water pulsing hot & he scrubs hard, washing the night away. He cleans his face, he moisturises, he prepares himself for the coming day.

***

They head back to the station, neither wanting to head to hospital after a fight with a suspect, not when they can be tidied up by one of the others. Mansell sits at his desk, quietly laughing at the state Joe and Miles have got themselves into whilst also keeping out of it as Riley & Kent volunteer to help clean the wounds, first aider training coming in handy. Joe watches as Kent turns to Miles first and Joe’s confused, sure Kent would come to him, an instinctive reaction based on all previous where Kent always turns to him first. He wonders if this is still hangover from Morgan and he wonders if he needs to talk to Kent, to reassure him that he doesn’t blame him, that he never did, not really.

However Riley gets to Miles first, glancing at Kent and motioning him towards Joe. Kent is hesitant on approaching Joe but Joe smiles at him, a small but real smile and Kent smiles (more an upward twitch of nervous lips) back.

And then he’s gently grasping, his right hand spanning the right side of Joe’s face, holding his head steady, his palm cupping Joe’s chin, the side of his little finger brushing Joe’s mouth every now and then, setting off little sparks in Joe’s skin. His other hand is slowly but oh so gently working the blood away from his temple, light touches and small strokes of cotton wool on the wound, the water cool, the stinging easing off gradually and Joe find himself being soothed in spite of the pain. He watches Kent’s face during, as he concentrates and drags his bottom lip under his teeth repeatedly, not quite biting, as he works. Joe has a sudden impulse to push up, to grab that lip for himself and he isn’t sure where the thoughts come from but once here, he finds it hard to remove them, to erase the image of Kent’s mouth on his, to erase the want that has been infused in him.

All too soon, Kent is done and Joe is relatively clean and plastered up, enough to hold for today. It’s only as Kent steps away that Joe realised how little distance there was between them, that Kent has been standing in the v made by Joe’s legs, from him perching on the edge of the desk, making sure that Kent can get close enough to cleanse him. It was too intimate for work and it may have started innocently but it had morphed from that, the telling silence from the others, even Mansell, and they both realise, Kent quickly walking to his desk and Joe quickly leaping from his perch and giving Kent a short thanks, moving back to his office, needing to shut himself away, finding it hard to look away from the tense line of Kent’s back but he manages. He always does.

***

It had been a long day, made longer by Joe’s mind turning tipsy on him, making him think of Kent as he never had before, a simple touch doing all that and more.

He needs to cleanse himself, ready himself for the night and so he showers, tries to wash away the previous hours, the plaster coming loose, the hot water clearing the wound as Joe tries to scrub away Kent from his skin, unsuccessfully, the feel of him still there.

He cleanses, he moisturises, he prepares himself for the night and as he looks in the mirror, he can imagine the ghost of Kent’s fingers on his face, his palm cupping his chin, his finger drifting over Joe’s mouth, dipping in and Joe suddenly wants the image to come alive, finally feeling again after so long and Joe wants it to be Kent that opens him up.

He is clean and ready for the morning, ready to see Emerson and ready to see what possibilities lie ahead.


End file.
